"We have collected and made a list of
them, and they will in due course be handed to you, or to his heir, on
the coroner's order."
"Is that a letter? May I see it?"
As the official hesitated, Henshaw had snatched the paper, a folded note,
and rapidly ran his eye through its contents. Then he gave a curious
laugh, as he turned over the paper as though seeking an address, and laid
it back in the box.
"A note from my brother to an anonymous lady," he observed quietly.
"Perhaps if we could find out whom it was meant for she would throw some
light on the mystery."
CHAPTER VIII
KELSON'S PERPLEXITY
"What do you think of Mr. Gervase Henshaw?" Kelson said, as, late in the
afternoon, he and Gifford walked towards the town together. Henshaw had
left Wynford Place half an hour previously, having kept to the end his
attitude of resentful incredulity.
"A nailer," Gifford answered shortly.
"Yes," Kelson agreed. "He gives one the idea of a man who will make
trouble if he can. As offensive as his brother was, I should say,
although in a different line. I did not detect one sign of any
consideration for the Morristons in their horribly unpleasant position.
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